What do you do when the orgy’s over? Tidy up, look at the pictures and – maybe – obsess over the consequences. After two LPs of glammy freak funk celebrating polymorphous urges both musical and sexual, Kevin Barnes is coming down, and it’s an epic bummer. On Stalks, lovers fight, get blood in their hair and vomit. Fun! The music is dense and jittery, jumping from brittle robobeats to sunshiny psychedelic soul to spaced-out majesty. But it’s submerged beneath the noise of a dream unraveling, schizoid instead of sexy. It’s like getting it on with a paranoid android: The next twitch could be the moment pleasure turns to pain.